


When the great sun is eclipsed.

by rodrigraphics



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen, Gunshot Wounds, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodrigraphics/pseuds/rodrigraphics
Summary: A stargazing date for one, a hellish feat for another.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a stupid text post I made

Mojave nights were always cold, contrasting the unbearable heat of day. Only the glow of New Vegas giving off the vaguest hint of warmth, even from miles and miles away.

 

The blood was hot, seeping right between Arcade's freezing fingers. He almost enjoyed the warmth giving comfort to his joints. He pushed the thought away, sickening and unprofessional. If he ever was professional.

 

Despite the cool temperatures he could feel the sweat on his forehead sliding down, accumulating on his back. Nervous and panicked. Trying to stanch the flow as quickly and efficiently as he could in the low light of the moon and obnoxious orange glow of a pip-boy.

 

The wounded party hardly said anything, only staring at the stars above.  
All the while, words choked in his throat and cluttered his mind, angry, worried, panicked. Regretting the decision to even go with some reckless aventurier ; a sweet talker that swooped right into his insecurities, and pressed at what was left of his ego.

 

He kept silent, it was futile to even try to talk sense into the daredevil of a courier. To scold him like an irresponsible child.

 

No time to waste, even if he managed to get the blood flow to slow down. The bullet was somewhere lodged into the courier's abdomen, festering with each second.  
Of course, it wasn't the courier's first stroke with death, hardly. It wasn't Arcade's first time doing this is the middle of the night, it wasn't the first time he'd seen the sand stained with blood.

 

Neither would it be the last.

 

He wondered if he would ever miss it.

 

The courier flinched at the sting of the tweezers. A confident and charismatic man, turned speechless. But he could never figure out whether with pain or fear. Or both.  
He never liked digging into someone's tissue and muscle. The fervent smell of blood and burned skin keeping him nauseous for days.

 

The tweezers gripped at the bullet, and he felt the courier twist in pain.  
Something no more than an inch long. 

 

“Do you ever notice the stars Arcade?” 

 

He heard the shaky sigh leave the courier's lungs.  
“Now's not really the time Jeremias.”

 

“Do you always have a stick up your ass?”

 

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the slight tremble in his hand. “With you, always. And no I don't stare at the stars. Too busy keeping an eye on you.”

 

He knew the courier was smiling from the comment.

 

Each stitch careful and slow, each stitch causing the courier to curse under his breath. Which Arcade couldn't help but smile at.

 

“Not too shabby for a late night job.” The courier ran his finger lightly over the pattern of stitches.

 

“If anything’s bothering you, just administer a stimpak. Et cetera.”

 

“Sure, sure. But really Arcade, thanks. I'd probably be dinner for nightstalkers if not for you.”

 

“I am but a humble servant.”

 

The courier snorted, “don't sell yourself so short.”

 

Arcade rolled his eyes, “do you know how to find the constellation Perseus ?”

 

“Is that rhetorical ?”

 

“Don't be a smartass.”

 

The courier smiled, and Arcade rolled his eyes as he pointed towards the sky.“Alpha Persei, it's a bit brighter than the North Star.”

 

The courier's eyes followed Arcade's hand at each point, “Arcade—”

 

“Yes ?”

 

“You're the moon to my stars.”

 

“Have you been helping Boone with his poetry again ? You flatter this old doctor.”

 

The courier shrugged with a smirk upon his lips, “a poet at heart, and a great lover in bed.”

 

“Don't press your luck Jeremias.”

 

“Worth a shot.”


End file.
